The Dragon Bouquet
by betawho
Summary: Dragonslaying and flower arranging, when you're the Doctor and River, it's all in how you do it.


River picked flowers in the meadow as the Doctor struggled with his captors.

"Really, we had no idea this was Archduke Cheverton's lands," the Doctor protested as two fancifully armored knights wrestled him onto a horse, his hands tied. He peeked out of the corner of his eye at River, who was selecting each bloom with care. The guards hadn't noticed her yet.

He frowned slightly at her complete unconcern. It's not like she couldn't see what was happening.

"If you'll just let me speak to the Archduke, I'm sure we can clear this whole thing up in no time," he pleaded, keeping the knights' attention focused on him.

The fancier of the two knights tied his hands firmly to the front of the saddle, tightening the knot with a yank. "You killed the dragon that has presided over these lands for generations!" the knight said, affronted.

"Yes? But it was about to eat that girl they'd staked out!" the Doctor protested.

"That dragon has been the Cheverton family sigil for three hundred years!" the junior knight proclaimed in outrage.

The Doctor's face fell. "Oh." He gulped. "Sorry." He saw River, in her milkmaid dress, carrying her bouquet of wildflowers to the ornate coach that housed the Archduke, a couple of guards crossed halberds in front of her, barring her path. She smiled winsomely and bobbed a curtsey, looking wholesome and harmless, (and very toothsome, he had to admit.)

They hadn't connected River with him and the dragonslaying incident, her warrior's clothes had been burned in the battle and the girl's grateful family had loaned her the dress.

She offered up the bouquet toward the coach, at her charming, demure, best. He fought not to roll his eyes. But he knew just how irresistible she could be when she chose. There was a barked comment from inside the coach and the halberds raised.

His guards walked his horse closer to the coach, to see what was going on. He surreptitiously wiggled his wrists, contracting and loosening the muscles the way Harry had taught him, easing his hands out of the ropes.

The coach door opened and the wizened Archduke leaned out with a leer at the buxom milkmaid. River batted her eyes at him, and tipped her head coyly. She murmured something and held out a single ornate red flower. A clawlike old hand reached out to take it, and River flicked something.

The flower exploded in a ball of flame, scorching the old lord's hand. He screeched and fell back into the coach. Knights and guards jumped forward to his defense but River thrust the entire bouquet toward the open door of the coach. She held her lighter at the ready.

"Come any closer and your Archduke gets blooming roasted!" They stopped in their tracks, their eyes glued to the long lighter flame and the poppy red, lacy flowers. The wind flirted dangerously with the flame.

"Sweetie?"

The Doctor grabbed the reins from the startled guard and whipped up his horse, "Yah!"

The horse thundered toward River, scattering the guards. He reached down and she grabbed his hand and swung up behind him. She tossed the flowers into the coach, the red flowers pattering down on the Archduke. They could hear his shrill scream as they rode away.

—

"How did you know to do that?" the Doctor asked as they both leaned forward, galloping the stolen horse hell-bent-for-leather to the Tardis.

Wind whipped through their hair and she yelled into his ear. "Local foliage. Naturally high in ethanol."

They swung off the steaming warhorse in front of the Tardis. The Doctor swatted the horse on its way. River straightened her gown and brushed her hair back.

The Doctor unlocked the Tardis door and looked at her. "Flammable flowers?"

She gave him a smirk and brushed past him, lightly rubbing against him. "They don't call them Dragon's Breath for nothing!"

She gave him a soft peck on the cheek.

"Lovely picnic by the way."

—

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